


what to believe

by Aminias



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soft Steter, Stiles is a Moon Spirit kinda, Stiles mom is the Moon, THIS IS SO PURE, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, ace safe, stiles is a cutie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aminias/pseuds/Aminias
Summary: Excitement thrums through him as he looks Peter over, goggling at the wolf. "You are Moon blessed, and Devil marked.” He dips his head pleased.“Thank you,” Peter replies with a toothy grin. “I find you exquisite as well.”





	what to believe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/gifts).



> based on: http://humanformdragon.tumblr.com/post/169113361413/positive-memes-wholesome-sun-and-moon
> 
> My brain: Okay but Stiles is the moon.  
> Just moon spirit Stiles so earnest and like cute wise but still able to have fun watching over the years till he looks to close one day and falls?
> 
> Some credit also goes to the TW chat, pan2fel for posting the dank meme and brandileeder for cheerleading and beta work!
> 
> Also Midnight-Beth Crowley

“God, in his infinite wisdom went trolling through the galaxies. He grew tired on his walk and yawned a corner of the cosmos into existence. This not being the done thing caused a few galactic incidents. The end result was a little corner of space to craft as his own.”

She paused adjusting the boy in her lap. 

“A party is no fun unless you can invite your friends, so God said unto all the planets: ‘yo why don’t you come hang out?’ So the Planets came. God ingested too much comet dust and sneezed; Earth was formed.”

 

“Mommy, mommy I know what happens next, the Moon!” He said delighted wrapping his fingers in the strands of her silver hair.

 

“Yes dear.” She indulged. “God realized the Earth needed a few extra things to get it going.  He called up an enterprising star.”

 

“What does enter-prizing mean?” He wrinkled his nose, tripping over the word.

 

“Go-getter, and he said: the Sun shall fuel all life on Earth. The Sun thought this was a pretty good deal.”

 

“Then the Moon?” His amber eyes were wide with anticipation.

 

“Then the Moon.” She agreed, her laughter twinkling like starlight. “God thought for a bit and said: the Moon shall tug on the Earth and make tiny waves!” She tickled him and he giggled till he sneezed bits of stardust.

 

“Also werewolves!” the bright-eyed boy chimed in.

 

“I thought this was a pretty good deal.” She confided with a grin.

 

“Wolves are cool.” He nodded with all the gravity of his age.

 

“Yes.” She said placing a cool kiss on his forehead. “I’ve got the wolves and you, my sweet.” Though she held him her eyes were sad and remained fixed on some distant sight.

 

Around them, the stars murmured gossip to each other about love and the little spirit on the Moon.

* * *

 

. Once all beings reach a certain age they are rarely a singular identity. She is both the Moon, and Claudia, and now, a mother.  Names being of great importance she Christians the boy with two of her greatest parts and dubs him: MIECZYSŁAW. There is a ripple of pleasure across the galaxy when his father hears the name.

 

She settles back and keeps her Glory and her Sword close to her. Knowing that isn’t yet time to hand off her mantle.

  


The Moon turned and the child grew. In the way of all young things, he made mischief. The shadows of craters were his chief hiding spot. She always found him.

  


Meteors played tag with him and he exchanged teasing words with comets. SolarWinds swirled underfoot taking him place to place.

  


With a wink, he passed by Stars laughing when their heat tickled his skin. Ever since a nice man with wings stepped into the dark sky and waved his hands more of them have been cropping up. Mieczysław makes a game of dodging their rays. The Stars, for lack of better gossip, indulge him.

  


His cloak is hewn of Moondust; the tears of love lost and love found. Each row of stitches in the ensemble is a wolf's ballad. As he grows older his clothes bare one wolf's thread in particular. Every edge is trimmed with glistening white flowers that steadfastly defy the vacuum of space.

* * *

 

The cycles keep coming. The tide waves, the Earth tips his hat and when Mieczysław hides in the craters. She doesn't find him as quickly anymore. There are trespassers that threaten the line between the veil. They come with their flags and their ships. Claudia is no more.

 

Spacecraft he learns. _The Final Frontier._ Mieczysław doesn't think he’s heard of a better prank. _Don’t humans realize this place is infinite?_

 

The Wolves are there as an extra thrum in a galactic current he becomes more and more aware of each day. _Protect_. He thinks their shapes small and distant from such a great height.

 

Both the ocean and the wolves are like an exclusive channel that only those of the Moon can tune into. A station that beats in time with the heart every chance he draws breath. Mom tells him in a hush, her hands wound in his as they peer over the edge of existence.

  


The stars are fickle and twitter to each other watching him. Mom becomes the Moon and he can still speak to her but her replies have crossed beyond words.

 

She’s there in the sweep of the solar wind when it misses his hair. When the Moondust dances beneath his fingertips it's the ashes of her love born anew.

 

‘My Glory,’ She murmurs when his eyes catch the Moon Light awash with affection. ‘My Sword.” She praises when he wields rapture as a weapon. These are the last words she whispers, guiding him to protect those of the blood. Stiles heeds her well and observes the wolves and minds the tides.

 

Years drag by in the interim and Stiles finds himself lingering more and more on the view of Earth. He spends his days and nights wandering the sky and propped up on clouds watching the wolves. Their songs keep him company and he whispers his words to the heavens and watches the rain carry them down.

 

The Hales are the werewolves he observes the most - chief among them, Peter. The man is canny and sly with a humans love and a wolf's wildness.

 

Stiles likes hearing his songs most of all. The wolf sings of the hunt, how it feels to track prey under the Moons silver light sending his thanks.

 

Peter cries out into the vast wood, one of the few werewolves who lift his muzzle paying respect to the old way. His songs call to Stiles across the vast reaches of space and time. Depending on their contents either quickening his breath or bringing tears to his eyes.

 

Sometimes the wolf looks up at the Moon lifting his hand as if to touch and Stiles catches himself reaching back.

* * *

God stops by and says ‘hi’ every few Orbits when his name day approaches the being will leave him some sort of marvel.

 

One Name day it’s a baseball mitt and a small comet. They play catch for hours and eat chilled cloud afterwords. Another offering is a deck of Card and Earth games.

 

The year of his majority Mieczysław, now spoken as ‘Stiles’, is too busy watching the wolves below to acknowledge his approach.

 

His favorite has blue eyes and is marked with the devil's grin. The stars had always been his second favorite creation.

 

That year God gives the curious Spirit a kick in the ass and a cloud to cushion his fall.  He tumbles head over heels through the damp wisp of a cloud and hurtles towards the Earth. It takes him a long time to summon ash and dust to slow his fall and finally it’s water that comes to Stiles aid.

 

This is how Peter Hale finds him, soaking wet and shaking off glittering bits of Moondust in the Preserve. Their eyes meet and the wolf blinks and laughs, then repeats the same action. The laughter curls around him and he stays like that listening to Peter’s amusement until it trails off.

 

“What are you?” Demands Talia Hale, her hackles raised.

 

Stiles frowns and tromps out of the pond wringing his cloak out.

“I’m me.” He informs her wrinkling his nose. “You are rude.” Stiles decides. Testing the English language out further. Though it's not as beautiful as his own, he could grow used to how it curls around his tongue.  The young  spirit turns away from the Alpha and faces Peter.

 

“Your Highness.” Peter dips into a courtly bow.

 

Stiles stares for a moment then smiles  “Well not exactly but nothing else comes close to your language.” _It’s weird to imply he’s in charge of his mom._ He is the Sword, he is the Glory, and he represents something greater. Stiles lifts his chin because he will not weep. He will mind his manners, _for now_.

 

Excitement thrums through him as he looks Peter over, goggling at the wolf. "You are Moon blessed, and Devil marked.” He dips his head pleased.

 

“Thank you,” Peter replies with a toothy grin. “I find you exquisite as well.”

 

The spirit blushes from his cheek to his ear tips and moves closer to the staring wolf. He’s barely four billion years old and entering his majority. He’s never had an air breather pay him a compliment and to have his wolf do so is doubly flattering.

 

“Might I inquire as to the nature of your visit.” Talia attempts after a sharp glance from Peter.

 

“You may,” Stiles says, _didn’t mean he had to answer_. Currently, he was fascinated enough by being so up close and personal to the being he had so long watched.

 

Talia waits, shifting from foot to foot.

 

“My liege.” Peter prompts.

 

“Ah,” Stiles articulates and pulls his cloak up.“Forgive me, I was distracted.” Try as he might he’s unable towill his blush away when Peter smirks. On impulse his fingers snag at a blossom from the trim of his cloak.

 

He presents the flower to the wolf in a sweeping motion, the way knights did ladies. “For so long I have worn the stitches of your song in my clothes.” He stumbles searching for an English equivalent to what he wants to express. Finding no way he settles for bashfully looking up at Peter.

 

“I’m honored that you find my words worthy,” Peter says, accepting the bloom. His eyes flash blue as he examines the white Moonflower.

 

Stiles rocks on his feet, body thrumming with nervous energy as he watches the wolf consider his gift. His stomach jumps and twists, it was like falling all over again.

 

“Do you accept my suit, Peter Hale?” Stiles ventures surprised at his own boldness.

 

“I’m considering it,” Peter admits looking interested. “If suit refers to your interest and proper courting behavior.”

 

“I-uh-that is.” Stiles clears his throat, attempting to regain his bearing. “Yes, courting would be good.”

 

“Might I have your name since you appear to know mine?” The man arches his eyebrow.

 

“Right, it’s Mieczysław, Stiles.” He clarifies sputtering at the heat in Peters gaze.

 

“Excellent.” Peter took his hand. Stiles startled, his skin alighting under the warmth of his Wolf's touch. It feels like the stars. Peter bends down and brushes a light kiss over the top. His lips are soft and his eyes are hungry. “I look forward to getting to know you, Stiles.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some backstory stuff:
> 
> So the idea is Claudia is actually very powerful and all of these beings that became 'planets' have a manifestation of power but there are rules and they all wandered around a lot doing their own thing. Well god invited/ tricked them to this party and he was good at the creation of life. These beings can create things and even other beings but everyone's gift is kinda different. Claudia caught on to gods plan was amused and wanted to settle down asked for a front row seat to the action on Earth.  
> She always wanted a son of a manifestation but she wanted him to have true life and feeling so cut a deal with god and yeah maybe gods his dad?
> 
> pretty much the biggest party of BC went down and thats how Earth happened


End file.
